Living with Survival: Part two
by Brandon-Illiam-Lee
Summary: The remains of the Meyers family scramble to survive in a world that seems to devolve deeper into madness with every passing day. A sequel, part one can be found here: /s/5202876/1/Living-with-survival
1. Chapter 1: Smoke Trails

Living with Survival: Part two

Chapter one: Smoke trails

Dear Jon

I have saw the pain you have been going through over the loss of your

Family over the past ten days, and I can't bear to see it anymore. Please don't

Follow me as I will be back as soon as I've found out if Tim is dead, I'm going to search that

church for him. Ill return here when I know whether he is dead or not. At least then you can have true closure over your brother. I will be back within a day or two.

I love you.

He kept the letter in his coat pocket. Close to his heart. As if it were some kind of good luck charm. Praying and wishing she was still alive. Even hope began to creep into Jons mind as he silently weaved through the streets of London. It had been a while since he had aloud himself to hope for just about anything. All the while the ominous trail of smoke rose from unknown part of the city. He couldn't take his eyes from it the entire journey.

He had left the safety of an out of town shop, with only a crowbar and a rucksack full of tinned food and water. The car he had started out with was far too loud to navigate the dead streets of London. Noise attracted what was left of the infected, and considering he was now on his own, he felt stealth was his number one option.

It was only until he got closer and closer to that smoke trail that burnt its way into the sky, that he noticed a growing dread in the pit of his stomach. That smoke was close to where he had left his brother Tim only a few weeks earlier. That damned church, last he saw of it, the apparent sanctuary had been ransacked. God knows what happened to the families that were cowering between its pews., Ripped to pieces no doubt, along with Tim.

The burning made him gag. It had been a garage forecourt. Along with a few cars, it was now a smouldering ruin. You could tell the infected attracted by the blaze had come and gone, fresh blood on the pavement from where they had vomited or fell over and smeared their filth on the footpath.

It was only through poking around in the ash did he find it. A small skeleton, about the size of a young woman and a half burnt satchel nearby that once belonged to Liv, these were the remnants of the one he had grown to love.

He wept amongst those ashes; dirt covered his face as he embedded his head in the black dust. "Oh God, Oh God no" Jon sobbed. Jon sobbed and sobbed. Nothing left now. He lost a few hours to grief. Night was coming fast.

He drew a cross in the cinders "Mum"

He drew a cross in the cinders "Dad"

He drew a cross in the cinders "Tim"

He drew a cross in the cinders "Mike"

He drew a cross in the cinders "Liv"

He drew one final cross, that's when he heard them. A couple of hundred feet down the road. Three maybe four of them coming his way fast. His gut wrenched tight. Jon pulled out his crowbar and did what he had never done before. He moved forward instead of back, and instead of running, he charged the infected head on.


	2. Chapter 2: The Mask

Living with Survival: Part 2

Chapter 2: The Mask

Tears streamed down Jons face as he charged towards the infected. Tears of sorrow, or grief, maybe hatred, he wasn't sure. Very little time to think about it now. There were four. A child, its clothes brown and soaked in gore, he couldn't have been older than ten. A young woman, could have been his sister, her matted blonde hair now almost black with dirt and blood. Two men also, one completely naked, with a terrible gash at his left shoulder, the other was a swat team member, his grimy uniform topped off with his helmet, a wide crack in the visor, apparently where the infected managed to get in at him.

The crowbar came down first on the naked man, all the momentum of the glorious charge channelled into one blow. A sickening crack as his skull flew to pieces. His lifeless body crashed down to the pavement.

A spin of Jons heel brought further momentum to his second blow, the impact came directly across the face of the young girl. A loud terrible screech as she went spiralling away from him, Jon wasn't entirely sure if the hit had been fatal. But he knew he had bought a few seconds at least before she was coming back at him.

Momentum gone...

"Oh shit". The little child was nearly upon him. The swat team guy was a few feet behind. Jon allowed the child to charge right towards him. As he came within reaching distance, Jon took a wild chance. Grabbing the front of the childs t shirt with his free hand. He catapulted him the way he was charging. It worked beautifully, almost too well. The child tumbled with great speed past Jon, Jon watched as the young boy was thrust head first into a nearby lamppost. Jon had never quite seen a head and shoulders split apart like that. It actually took him out of the moment. He watched as the child slumped lifeless against the post. Broken in ways he never thought a body could be broken.

Crack! Jons vision went spinning. The swat infected had reached him in his moment of awe. It had brought its gloved fist right into the back of Jons head. Jon twirled around just quick enough to see the infected tackle him to the ground. Pain, pain is all he felt now.

Somehow, the crowbar was still tightly within his grip. His vision was blurred. He knew the infected was on top of him, he knew another blow was going to come soon. If that next hit came, it was over for Jon. He wasn't coming back from another one of those vicious punches.

"fuck you", it's all he could muster as he swung the crowbar with all his strength. If his last words were to be fuck you, at least they were fitting.

Contact, right into that cracked visor, he had punctured its face somewhere. An eye perhaps. It slumped backwards off of him. Jon still couldn't see. His world was still pain and spiralling vision. He threw up right there and then. A mix of the pain and pure adrenaline, he fell lifeless to the cold hard cement below. Unable to move, even if he wanted to. A strange thought came to Jon in that moment. All those movies he had watched. The hero gets the shit knocked out of him and still gets up to fight. One punch and an awkward rugby tackle and Jon simply was unable to go on.

What seemed like hours, but was actually minutes. He heard the gurgled snarling coming towards him from the direction of the church. Get up Jon, for Gods sake get up. He looked up towards the sound. If only to watch his doom approach.

His vision was slightly steadier, but only slightly. He waited a few seconds and focussed towards the sound. That's when he saw him; at first he didn't believe it. But he recognised him.

"Jesus Christ" Jon said as the priest came speeding towards him. It was him. The same priest they had locked away in the church a few weeks ago. His manic look had not changed, yes he was a little more dishevelled and had been infected for a few weeks at least, but he was undeniably familiar under the red eyes and monstrous facial contortions.

He jerked and shrieked as he got closer, as if unable to control his movements fully. A couple of feet away now.

The noise was deafening, as was the other one that followed it. Jons eyes slammed shut as if by reaction. Not before seeing a spray of blood come spurting from the priests neck. He opened his eyes just in time to see the second bullet go tearing through the back of his heads and out threw its jaw. And as if by magic the movement stopped. He stumbled first to his knees and then face planted the pavement.

"What the fuck" Jon looked around, still unable to gather his surroundings. That's when he saw it running towards him.

A black rain coat that ran down to his shins, its hood up over his head. The mask it wore was part terrifying and part hilarious. A clown face, with a gaping smile, one buck tooth peeping from under its lips. The nose up to its forehead was decorated with the British flag. It held an impressive rifle in both hands.

"Get up" it said. "GET UP!". It held out a gloved hand.

"More infected will be coming, they always do"

Jon grabbed it by the hand and pulled himself to his feet, pain in his head, he was amazed he could stand.

"Now fucking run"

The mask lead the way, yanking Jon by the wrist. As they darted down a nearby alleyway, Jon could just about hear the infected closing in on where they just were.

The mask darted through a door, Jon just about caught on to his surroundings before they ran clear though the large factory warehouse and straight out of another door.

Jon felt like they were running forever, room after room, alley after alley. How much distance had they put between them and the scene they had left? "I can't go on" Jon was truly out of steam. "We are nearly there". A mans voice.

They arrived soon after. A house, very unassuming. They went through the back door. In through the lounge, up the stairs. The mask pulled the attic steps down. He led the way and held his hand down for Jon to follow.

Darkness, some musty attic somewhere. Why had he come here, he almost had his senses back. He felt fear again. Where was he? And who had led him here?

A flicker of light comes from the corner of the room. A candle beams into life. The mask in all its grotesque patriotism comes into view. That British flag plastered across a mocking clown face, madness.

"Who are you?" Jon demanded

Silence. It just stood there, staring.

"I said who the fuck are you?" Jon took a step forward, he had left his crowbar behind, and he was no longer in control, if he ever was to begin with.

"Shhhhh, you'll bring them to us"

That voice...

He pulled his hands up, and slowly removed the mask. It took A few seconds to refocus on his face.

"Where are Mike and Liv?" He said

"Tim..." Jon whispered.


	3. Chapter 3: 20 Days Earlier

Living with Survival: Part 2

Chapter 3: 20 days earlier

20 days earlier...

Day 10 of the infection. Tim stared around the church. A tear rolled down his cheek, it had only been an hour since Mike, Jon and Liv had left, yet it felt like an eternity. Had he made a mistake? Letting them go out there without him. Mom and Dad were dead; could he watch them die to? In the end the main reason he stayed was for those around him. He stared around at children huddled together with their parents. The wounded sprawled out on the pews. The church began to smell like death, like rot, but it didn't bother Tim much.

The priest hadn't made a sound since Mike knocked him on his arse. He just sat in the room he was placed, reading his bible.

A few days passed. Food was now officially gone.

"We need to send someone out, or a few of us. We need to gather food and medicine" Robb spoke loudly, but not too loudly, no one ever spoke to loudly, less it attract the infected. Robb was a 48 year old taxi driver, his wife and younger daughter were with him. His son was in the army. He always spoke well of his him, almost bragging that his son was out there cleaning this mess up right now. He spoke so highly of him; Tim almost wanted to meet this Private Mailer.

Regret crept into Tims mind. He began to feel like he let his siblings down. Perhaps he should have gone with them.

"I'll go" Tim raised his hand

"Ill go too" Wolvo stepped forward. A 25 year old brick layer from Wolverhampton. A shit hole as he always referred to it as. He was a bricklayer, only came down to London for a week to see his girlfriend that was at university. She was dead. But here he was, this Midlands lad, caught up in this mess so far from home.

"Go for Tesco express, its only a few streets over" Robbs younger daughter said.

Tim grabbed a back pack from the pews. "Sounds as good a plan as any" Wolvo said as he slung his sledgehammer over his shoulder. His warhammer he called it.

The two slipped out the door silently. They peered down the road. Nothing, the surrounding area was quiet. But as always the sound of carnage could be heard in the distance. "Lets go" Wolvos thick midland accent was often pretty humorous to Tim, he couldn't imagine such a docile dialect to ever be intimidating.

They arrived at the shop without incident. They decided to check for a back entrance. Thankfully there was. Locked however, Wolvo without hesitation raised his sledgehammer over his shoulder.

"Wait! Thats going to make a shit loud of sound" Tim almost put himself between him and the door, but then decided against it. "In and out chap, incentive to move your arse". The sledgehammer came crashing down into the door. The whole thing came clean off its hinges. They stared into the dark shop. "Remind me not to fuck with you Wolvo" Tim said as he quietly stepped inside. "You shouldn't need reminding" Wolvo followed.

The shop was untouched, they went to town. Stuffing bags with food and water. "Fucking Christmas Timmy" Wolvo laughed as he tipped a bag of monster munch into his mouth.

"Shhhh" A noise from outside the front of the shop. Then another noise, and another. And then a thunderous downpour of stampeding footsteps. They both got to their knees. Out of site, they peaked over the front till. Tim gasped, even Wolvo was speechless. About twenty soldiers were running up the road, passed the shop, and after them came what could have been hundreds of infected. Then the gunfire started.

"A running battle" Wolvo whispered. The infected fell in the shower of gunfire; dozens were torn to shreds by the automatic fire. But as if by some terrible spell, more and more appeared. It wasn't long before the two dozen soldiers were surrounded. A man on a radio shouted for extraction before he was jumped by three infected.

It didn't last long. The island of green uniforms was enveloped by the red army. The infected trailed past and up the roads. Some remained still battering some of the dead soldiers into a pulp.

"We had better stay the night, sneak past these fuckers when we get the chance" Tim said. They settled in for the night, sleeping top and tail under a service counter.

"You wish you went didn't you?"

"Went where?"

"With your brothers"

"Ive let them down, I know that now" tears began to fall from Tims cheeks

"Now you listen here chap. Those boys will be alright, you worry about the here and now. Its survival now, we have to live with that. I can't survive when I'm thinking about Rebecca, and how I let her down. So I put her out of my mind"

"How did you lose her Wolvo?"

"We should get some sleep" Wolvo said as he turned away, trying to hide the tears that were now in his eyes.

The next day the two slipped out of the shop, with plenty of food, at least for a few days. As they neared the church, Tim could feel something was wrong. When they saw it they knew. The doors were swung wide open. "They got in"

Tim ran straight for the entrance. "Wait" Wolvo warned. But it was too late. Tim was already speeding into the church.

What he found stunned him into silence. Slaughter! Pure carnage. The men, the women, the children, all sprawled across the hall. Tim thought back to a house party he once had, Mikes room was the coat room, his bed piled with layers and layers of coats. That's what this place reminded him of. Layers and layers of flesh and blood.

He looked over it all for a moment "Hello" he said. They jolted up right out of the layers of bodies. At least 8 or 10 of them. It took them mere seconds to charge him. Tim could barely prepare himself.

That's when he heard the battle roar. Wolvo came charging from behind Tim. His warhammer rose over his shoulder. It was only a few seconds, but Tim felt like he watched it all in slow motion.

The hammer swings to the right, an infected is pulverised.

The hammer goes to its left and an infected loses its head.

Swing after swing, the infected fall in the face of Wolvos fury. The ferocity and pure anger that was exploding from him was terrifying and awe inspiring. He only stopped after the last one was on the floor choking on its own blood. Then it all well silent.

Wolvo turned to look at Tim, for a moment Tim thought he was infected, his eyes, his face, pure rage. It died away however.

A banging came from the upstairs. Banging against a door Tim thought.

"What's that" Tim whispered

"I'm not staying here to find out"

Tim didn't argue.

"Come on, we'll crash at my girlfriends old place. It has a tucked away attic we can lie low in"

The two moved out of the church. "Okay, but let's stop off back where those soldiers were killed"

"Why"

"Because if I'm going to be able to keep up with you I'm going to need a gun"

Wolvo grinned

As they left, Tim saw Robb Mailer and his daughter, beaten and bloody, lying in each others embrace.


	4. Chapter 4: Reunited

Living with Survival: Part 2

Chapter 4: Reunited

Tim stood there for a moment, staring at his brother in disbelief. The candle lighting his features, features he thought he would never see again. Jon stared right on back, not a word. Then, like an avalanche of emotion and relief, Jon crossed the room. The two hugged and cried like they had never cried before in their lives.

"I thought I'd never see you again" Tim cried

"Id given up all hope of seeing you again too" Jon wept, he wept and laughed. So happy yet all he could do was sob.

"Where are Mike and Liv?"

"What happened at the church?"

"How did you survive the last 20 days?"

The brothers talked for hours, explaining the holes in each others lives. Mikes death, Livs death. It all came flooding out, like an amateur therapy session.

"They're all gone?" Tim sighed. A noise came from downstairs. Jon shot to his feet. "Don't worry; it's just my friend Wolvo"

The man entered the attic, a sledgehammer in his hand, dripping with blood. The 25 year old was built like a brick shit house Jon thought. He was wearing a hideous mask in the design of a cartoon baby. Its entire face painted with the St Georges flag. He quickly slid the mask from his face.

"Look who I found" Tim smiled. Wolvo was stunned as the brothers had been. "Alright chap, how the hell are you?". The two shook hands. "I found him rummaging around the city, not far from the church" Tim shook his head as he pulled his brother into a head lock. "I've just come from that way, so it was you two that caused all that fuss. I had to split an army of heads just to get here".

The three ate and talked of happier times. Wolvo told them several amusing stories about back home. Jon told them about Jim, lying asleep in his hospital bed. Tim told them about how he found his clown mask. Among the dead of what seemed to be a battleground between some vigilantes and the infected. It didn't turn out well for the one wearing the mask, it was Tims now.

It was late. Wolvo was snoring softly. Tim was lying on his side. Thinking about everything that had happened. Jon was awake too.

"What are we going to do now Tim?"

"Keep our heads down, hopefully these things will starve to death soon" Tim whispered

Jon lay there for a moment in silence. "I don't want to wait for them to starve". Tim was silent now.

"Tim they killed Mum and Dad, Liv and Mike would be here too if this all hadn't had happened. I don't want to wait. I want to kill them, as many of them as possible. "

"How many is enough Jon?"

"All of them?"

Tim smiled as he turned around to go to sleep. "We had better get you a mask then".


	5. Chapter 5: The Reclamation of Britain

Living With Survival: Part 2

The Reclamation of Britain

The howls were piercing, but so were the thuds of the baseball bat. One last crashing blow to the head and the howling stopped. Jon stepped away from the corpse, took a long breath and exhaled. Wolvo had finished with his prey a few seconds prior, six lifeless infected in his path. "A few more dead in the name of her majesty" Tim said in a sarcastic tone. The three stood there in the abandoned factory, another battleground, another victory piled on the countless victories in the past few weeks. The infected were dwindling now, weak and starving, hardly even a battle at all.

Tims clown mask glistened with blood in the moonlight. They walked down Sheppard Street after leaving the factory. They kept alert, even now, at what seemed like the end of the reign of the infected. Wolvos baby face mask seemed perfectly clean; he made a habit of keeping it that way. Jon had acquired a hockey mask from a rundown costume shop, St Georges flag spray painted over the original colors. Jon knew now why they wore the masks. When you become more terrifying then the beast you're fighting, you don't fear it anymore. He had no fear any more. There was a feeling between the three men, like the end of the end had come, the infected were spent.

Another thing lay on their minds. The planes they began to see in the sky. The jet engine trails in the sky had become more frequent in the past few weeks. It signaled they weren't the only ones. But they were about to truly learn that soon enough.

"I'm starving after that little slice of ultraviolence, any one fancy three course dinner?" Wolvo was usually hungry. "What's on the menu?" Jon said cynically. "Tuna sandwich followed by two healthy servings of Tuna, finished up with half a Terrys chocolate orange" Tim knew the drill. "I wish we had some burgers" Jon sighed.

Wolvo chuckled to himself, but the laughing was cut dead when he saw what was up ahead. There were four of them. To say they looked like a swat team wouldn't do them justice. It was more like they once looked like a swat team. Gas masks covered their faces, ramshackle swat gear adorned with all sorts of grisly trophies. A necklace laced with fingers hung from their necks. One had a trio of small heads hanging from his waste, Jon could swear they were child like.

"What the fuck" Tim gave away a portion of the fear in his voice. Wolvo spoke up.

"Looks like we aren't the only freaks in town" he shouted towards the four. They stood silent, staring at them.

"Well I'm sure there were more freaks in town, seems the others are hanging from your costumes" Wolvo motioned his hammer towards the hand that was pinned to the chest of one of the swat team. All the while the swat team stood silent.

"Well, plenty of city for the both of us to hunt the infected. We'll be off" Tim butted in. " Lets go" he whispered back to the other two.

The swats then drew out their batons, they began banging slowly on their riot shields, both items had seen copious amounts of combat.

"I don't think they're hunting infected Tim" Jon said as he began to back away. The fear was back again. They had fought and killed many infected. These weren't infected, or at least they were still human, a twisted and sadistic version of humanity.

Jon was the first to turn and run. The two others followed. Even Wolvo was running for his life. You could learn the style of the infected; they became banal in their movements. The swat team gave chase. There was nothing familiar about these four, and the fact they outnumbered Tim, Jon and Wolvo was even more reason to get the hell out of there.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit" Jon chanted as he ran. The three ran through alleys and gardens. All the while heading towards their safe haven in their attic, but once they got in their sanctuary, what then? None of them cared right now. They ran until their hearts were beating a million miles an hour. The Swats were gaining on them, freakish fast, considering they wore so much armor. This wasn't their first hunt.

The three neared the attic. The heat inside of Jons mask was almost unbearable, but to take it off was to become weak again. The Swats remained silent during the chase, as if they were storing their fury for the catch, waiting until they could finally unleash themselves upon the three prey. Tim began to think it would soon be their heads hanging from the riot shield of these maniacs.

Tim got to the house first, tumbling through the back door and into the kitchen. They were up the stairs like lightning. Just as Wolvo slammed the attic door shut he saw the first of the Swats arrive behind them. Then all they could hear was movement. They were looking for something.

"We're fucked" Jon loudly whispered. Wolvo was to out of breath to talk. "What the fuck are we going to do?" Tim whispered.

The Swats found what they were looking for. A chair in which to stand on, they had reached the attic door. Then came a creaking sound. They were trying to pull the door open; the lock wouldn't last long against such brute strength.

"We just take them as they come in, one at a time" Wolvo panted. "You think they are that dumb to let us smash them on the head one at a time, they might have flash bangs or something" Jon said hopelessly.

The door was beginning to give way. "Well lads, it's been a pleasure. Long live The Three Masketeers and God save the fucking Queen" Wolvo said in a strained voice. Tim looked like a thunderbolt had hit him. "Queen" he whispered.

Tim darted to the corner of the room picking up the speakers of the stereo system they had set up. They never used it; it was more of a project for Tim when he was bored. He had hooked it up to a car battery. He placed the speakers next to a small hole in the side of the house they used sometimes to catch rain water from the comfort of their attic. "Hardly the time for fucking music Tim" Jon said angrily.

The door was almost off its hinges. Tim dived for the stereo player, flicking through a few tracks, pressing play on the one he deemed appropriate. First there was silence, then came the booming, almost deafening voice of Freddy Mercury

CAAAN ANYBODYYYYYYY FIIIIINDDD MEEEEE SOMEBODY TOOOOOO LOOOOOOVVVVEEE

The music was blasting from the attic, filling the streets around them. The Swats apparently didn't expect the sound of Queen. The siege stopped momentarily. Both attacker and defender stood in silence for a moment. All of them recalling times of music and joy. Tim smiled as he turned to the two "Here they come".

The infected were still dotted around London, weak and uncommon, but now they all headed towards this booming sound. The first of them arrived before The Swats even began trying to tear the door away again.

They made quick work of the first infected to arrive. But they kept coming. Then Swats weren't so silent anymore.

"Turn that fucking music off"

FIND ME SOMEBODY TO LOVE

"Oh Jesus there's dozens of them

FIND ME SOMEBODY TO LOVE

"They've got Roger, fuck they got his mask off"

FIND ME SOMEBODY TO LOVE

"Ahhhhhhh, oh my fucking hand "

CAN ANYBODY FIND MEEEEEEE

"AHHHHHHH, OHHHHH GODDD HELP ME, HELP ME, HELP ME"

SOMEBODY TO LOOOOOOOVVVEEEEEE

The massacre had ended with the song. Tim turned off the speakers. The dozens of infected below were reaching for the door. The Swats had been ripped to pieces. Now all that lay between the three and freedom was the infected below.

"I fucking love that song" Jon said

Then they heard a sound, soft at first but growing ever louder. Until it was finally deafening, it was outside their back garden. The infected scrambled over one another to get outside. When the house seemed empty, that's when machine gun opened up. The three ducked for cover, holding their ears as the sound of gun fire tore through the small army of infected outside.

Tim looked over to his brother Jon, cowering in the corner of the attic. His mask had fallen from his face. Its then Tim remembered that Jon was still a boy. They were all still boys really. What must have been a helicopter hovered above the house .

When the machine gun fire stopped. That's when the voice began, speakers sounded across the dead streets.

"Is there anybody alive in there" An American voice sounded across the speakers.

The three looked at one another. Dumb struck, unsure of what all this meant.

Wolvo got to his feet and pressed his head to the hole in the wall.

"Have you boys got a favourite song" He shouted

"Because we're now taking requests".


	6. Chapter 6: 28 Weeks Later

Chapter 6: 28 Weeks Later

Tim looks out of his 25th floor window staring at the windows of the opposite high rise, Lights, electricity, happy human face. He sips on a hot cup of coffee. He had never lived in the bay of dogs before. His suburban life had made him unused to these large towers he found himself living in. Wolvo shared a room with Jon, Tim had his own bedroom. It wasn't a bad setup. The weeks living in the quarantine camp when the army showed up was hellish, bleached clean by a bunch of hands on soldiers, given some military rags to wear and told to stay in a tent with other survivors was not what they were used too.

There was a kind of freedom the three lads had when they were surviving London. At the very least they could come and go from any one spot as they pleased. All that freedom was now traded for one thing, security. The Americans seemed like they were running the show pretty tight. Jon was quieter these days, he wasn't that same boy that used to pop over and watch a film with him and laugh and talk and be himself. Was it Liv or mike that broke him in a way he could never be repaired? Maybe it was Mom and Dad deaths.

It was Ellsy though that pulled Tim back from the abyss. From that dark place he was in when he wore that mask, when he roamed London killing and trying not to be killed. Ellsy was 25, she was from Manchester, She liked to write and read. She was beautiful and my God was Tim attracted to her. They had met her in the quarantine camp; she had made a joke about that hideous mask Tim always carried around with him. Jon doesn't talk much to her, Tim knew why; Tim knew she reminded him of Liv. Wolvo liked the girl; he thought she made a good match for Tim. Tim told him to shut up when he said these kinds of things.

She lived in the room opposite him. Tim and Ellsy spoke a lot, but only ever about things that wouldn't unearth their pasts. They talked about music, but never about family, they talked about film but never about how they survived.

She was coming over tonight. Tim said they would split a bottle of wine and maybe get to know each other a little more. She said she hopes this wasn't some shit way of coming on to her, she said it with a smile and a wink. Wolvo had insisted Jon and him were to vacate the flat for a few hours. They said they would go to the (only) pub in the district.

Tim thought a little on what had happened that day. Two kids had broken quarantine, they went out as a two and came back as a three. They had found their mother in their old family house. It was all that was on everyones lips. The military seemed spooked though, whispers between the higher in command officers. You could see it in their faces. Something's amiss. A knock came at the door.

"You're looking rather sharp tonight Mr Meyer" Ellsy walked into the flat brandishing a bottle of red wine. She looked as gorgeous as always. Her blond hair in a Platt, her blue eyes as pale as the sky.

"Looks like you made quite the effort too" Tim smiled as he closed the door behind her. "Oh this" She motioned towards her floral dress , "Oh I just through this on" she winked at him. He almost melted then and there.

"Where are the boys"?

"Wolvo has taken Jon out for a night of heavy drinking; I doubt we'll see either of them alive again"

"God help your brother"

"They are both my brothers, God help me, Wine never agrees with me"

"I don't blame it, your highly disagreeable" She smiled that smile again

A few hours passed, they drank and talked. Before long, the walls began to come down, they began to allow themselves to see each other for the wounded broken people they were.

"I was under the bed when they got in the house, I heard them get to my dad first. My brother managed to get into the opposite room to me. They burst in and got him next. The house was flooded with the infected. I just curled up in a ball and prayed. Not to God, just to make it quick, when they found me, just make it quick for me. They never found me, they found my 13 year old brother and tore him to pieces, but they never found me."

Tim wiped the tears from her cheeks, she looked at him with her wet eyes.

"We have to protect what we have now, we have to look after each other, and Jon and Wolvo. That's all I care about now. I have a new family I have to protect. I won't let anything happen to you"

The two stared into each others eyes. They leaned in towards each others lips.

The sirens were piercing. Like how the old air raid sirens used to sound during the blitz. Tims stomach dropped. They just sat there for a few seconds, trying to make sense of why the hell the military were on alert. Tim looked out the window. Hundreds of people were being directed down the street. Military personnel were everywhere. Snipers lined up on the roofs, hummers moved into position.

"We have to find Wolvo and Jon" Tim pulled Ellsy by the hand

"Shouldn't we just go to the militaries assigned meeting point?"

"Us three have our own meeting point, let's get the hell out of here"

Before Tim left, he grabbed one last thing that he had hidden in a shoe box in his wardrobe.

A clown mask decorated with the British flag...


	7. Chapter 7: The Best of Us

Chapter 7: The Best of Us

Jon didn't understand why they had been herded into this basement. It made no sense. Crowds meant death when it came to the infected. Wolvo was right next to him, squeezed in, shoulder to shoulder with everyone else in the district. The soldiers were padlocking them in. He heard shouting through the crowd.

"You can't keep us in here you bastards"

"We aren't fucking animals you wankers"

"Let us out of here"

Wolvo turned to Jon, "we have to get the hell out of here". You could see the fear in his eyes. That scared Jon. In all the weeks he had known Wolvo, he had rarely seen him scared. "We have to find Tim and Ellsy". How had he managed to become separated from his brother again? He had to find him. Tim kept saying they had to look after each other.

"The infection is dead, what the hell could be going on" Wolvo said loudly. A nearby middle aged man heard him. "You can't kill evil my boy". Wolvo didn't say anything, he just stared into Jons eyes.

The crowd was surging. Everyone trying to get towards the door, not a soul in there felt safe, no one wanted to be penned in. Wolvo had obviously had enough. "Jon hold my wrist, don't let go".

Wolvo forcefully began pushing his way towards the door they had been ushered though. A few mutterings and insults came from those they pushed past, but Wolvo didn't give a shit. Jon held on and sipped right to the front with him.

They weren't far from the door when the howl rung out across the crowd. The sound of infected at the back of the room. Jons blood ran cold. "Go Wolvo, fucking go".

The surge forward was sudden and violent. The infection was in the crowd there was no doubt about it. Horrified faces were everywhere, people sobbing and families crying for help. Jon looked back on the sea of bodies. He thought he saw a small boy climb up into the ventilation shafts; he could barely process it all.

Wolvo had reached the exit. He wedged his shoulder against the door and pulled Jon against the exit too. "Push" the people around him followed suit. The door strained against the weight. The sound of the infected was growing and moving closer to them. "Come on push, they're coming".

The door finally gave way. Wolvo went tumbling through it. Jon half expected the military to open fire then and there. But he tough they were just as scared and confused as the rest of them. Jon grabbed Wolvo by the wrist. "Run".

The crowd spilled out behind them, Wolvo and Jon sprinted with every ounce of energy they could muster. A woman and a girl were a dozen feet or so ahead of them, a military lady he had seen around the district. They made it to the streets and that's when they heard the first shots. Sniper fire whizzing over head. Jon looked back just in time to see an infecteds head explode to pieces.

"Head towards the district dry cleaners" Jon shouted at Wolvo. Wolvo knew the plan as well as Jon did. The three boys agreed on a point they would all meet if shit ever hit the fan, as Wolvo always put it. The dry cleaners was a perfect place to meet, the back door led onto an alley way that led directly to the river and thus the exit into the outer city.

The sound of gunfire was all he could hear now. People weren't just falling behind them; they were falling in front of them. All around them people were simply collapsing to the floor. Jon could only think of Liv in this moment. He saw her face, smiling. He thought of Tim and Ellsy, how they reminded him so much of what he and Liv had back when there was something left to hold on to.

Jon knew they were closing in on the dry cleaners. He saw normal people begin tumbling to the ground. "They're shooting uninfected" Wolvo screamed in anger. Every three seconds a shot rang out and another body fell to the ground.

His mind should have been on what was happening in this moment. The horror he was witnessing. But it was his lost ones that were racing though his mind. His mother, father and brother Mike, and Livs face, oh good God her beautiful face staring at him.

"JON!"

Tim was standing there in the door way of the dry cleaners. Waving his arms about, Ellsy stood by his side.

Wolvo sprinted towards the door, a shot rang out and barely missed the lucky fool by inches, ricocheting off a nearby bin. They had reached the dry cleaners. Tim smiled with relief and pushed the door open to welcome the two exhausted lads.

A shot rang out across the streets of London. The force of it nearly took him of his feet, but it was the agony that brought Jon to his knees. Tims face faded into horror "Jon NO!" he screamed. Jon was now on the flat of his stomach, the crowd sprinting past him. No one seemed to even notice him, nor his brother or Wolvo and Ellsy. They didn't even notice the pool of blood that was quickly spreading from his body onto the pavement.

Then he felt himself being lifted. The pain and agony began to give way to numbness, to nothing. Wolvo was holding him in his arms and pulling him into the dry cleaners. Tim slammed the door shut and pushed a large tumble dryer in front of the door. Tim cradled Jons head in his arms, Ellsy was crying. Wolvo looked pale as he sat to the side of Jon, covered in blood from the gunshot wound.

It had entered him through his back and out through his chest. Jon felt the warmth leaving him. Tim sobbed as he held onto his brother.

"Jon, no Jon. I was meant to look after you"

"You did" Jon whispered, he could barely keep his eyes open

"Don't go Jon, I can't lose you as well"

"You..did..everything..you..could..for me" The weight of his eyes were too much to bare

"I love you Jon, I love you. All I ever wanted was to save our family"

Jon pointed weakly at Wolvo and then moved his finger to Ellsy

"They..are..your..family..now" Jon struggled for breath

"Look after.. them"

Jon Meyers closed his eyes for the last time, seeing Livs face before blackness took him.

Tim sobbed over the lifeless body. The blood of his brother was spreading across the ceramic floor of the dark dry cleaners.

"We have to go Tim" Wolvo rose to his feet. "We have to get out of the city".

"We can't leave him, I need to bury him" Tim wept.

Ellsy took him by the shoulder."Your brother would have wanted us to go, he would have wanted you to survive Tim. Wolvo's right, the longer we are here, the more danger we are in".

Tim sobbed for a few more moments. He took a long look at his younger brothers face. He vowed to never forget it. He rose to his feet. The other two led the way to the back door of the building.

Before he left, Tim placed the clown mask he had carried with him on the chest of his fallen brother. He went to leave, looked back at Jon lying in the middle of the black room. "You were the best of us Jon". He turned and left.


	8. Chapter 8: Trails of Smoke

Chapter 8: Trails of Smoke

The bridge was strangely unmanned. The three approached there ticket out of the city with caution. There was little need. The distant gunfire told them everything they needed to know. All military were caught up in the chaos on the main streets. As they crossed the bridge Tim couldn't help but look back. He heard the burst of machine gun fire, the terror stricken screaming he could recall from the beginning of all of this.

"Come on Tim, we cant stop till we are clear of London" Ellsy said. Tim turned slowly away from the fighting. His eyes marked with his tears and cheeks swollen from the constantly rubbing away of the wetness of his sorrow. They kept moving. Wolvo commandeered a black Corsa, a popular car before the infection. He pulled the skeletal body from the drivers seat, its hands still wrapped around the key in the ignition. God knows what had killed the driver, its seat belt still on. The car burst into life. Wolvo flicked the lights on, but instantly turned them back off. "No need to draw any attention".

The three drove on into the night. They passed through the most direct route out of the city, an underground tunnel. What seemed ominous at first was rather a simple detour. The army had bulldozed through the piled up cars that had originally blocked the way through. The three agreed it was a pretty good idea to pass through this way.

As they left the city limits Ellsy stared back at the city, and all of a sudden as if someone had lit a match and through it at a puddle of petrol, the city lit up.

"Jesus, they are firebombing the isle of dogs" Ellsy gasped as her pupils were filled with the fire that burned through the streets of London.

"They lost all control" Tim sighed

"Where the fuck are we going then? We don't have a massive amount of petrol left, and some infected must have escaped the firebombing. Which means we have to worry about those fuckers again" Wolvos hand was shaking as he gripped the steering wheel.

"Just keep driving, we keep driving until we stop, and then we keep going from there. We don't stop until we are completely safe. That doesn't mean when the army tells us we are safe or we tell each other. We stop when we ARE safe".

Wolvo and Elssy looked at each other; they seemed to agree as they had no qualms with what Tim said. They drove on until morning, and then they drove some more. Growing constantly away from the smoke trails billowing from London.


	9. Epilogue: United Kingdom

Epilogue: United Kingdom

Tim held the small battery powered radio up to his ear. The static flashed with voices as he turned the dial.

...Infected... Thousands Dead...

He listened intently constantly trying to edge the frequency towards something more clear.

...Paris... Epidemic... Germanys border under attack...

Ellsy walked over to Tim.

"Foods nearly ready" She motioned towards Wolvo perched over their camp fire cooking something.

"Any good news" Ellsy said with an optimistic tone.

"When's the last time we had any good news?" Tim felt the harshness in his voice. Ellsy walked away without saying anything. Tim looked at her, almost wanting to apologise, but he didn't. He turned the dial again.

.. Lost control.. Military failures..

Tim thought back to the firebombing two weeks before. How could any infected have escaped, let alone made it over into Europe. He could pick up these bits and pieces from the radio. Something really bad was happening in mainland Europe. If that was true, every lick of land between France and the Pacific would be susceptible to infection.

...all blockades have failed... spreading like wildfire...

Tim thought then that perhaps England was now the safest place in the world. A dead country, waiting for the rest of the world to perish. Tim thought it could well only be the three of them left alive in Britain. He didn't know if that filled him with dread or a sense of safety.

...scenes like the evacuation of Dunkirk... thousands of boats...

Tim turned the radio off. Glorious isolation he thought. Wolvo and Ellsy were all he had left that was close to a family, and this dead husk of a country was all that he had left that he could call home.

Tim walked back to the camp fire, sitting next to Wolvo as he cooked his can of beans.

"Any joy out of the radio?" Wolvo questioned.

"I think we are now living in a new world, and it would seem Britain has been handed to us".

"So what do we do now?" Ellsy said with a hint of dismay.

"This used to be the United Kingdom, now it's neither of those things now. Perhaps we should work on that".

The three remained in silence for the rest of the night. Ellsy and Wolvo thought about what Tim had meant by his words before they fell to sleep. Tim simply watched the flames of the fire flicker and dance and finally die, all the while thinking and planning on what to do with this new world.


End file.
